GIFT  OF 
/     I  ^ 


1 


m 


earns 


(Charge  & 


A  DREAM  of  DREAMS 
THE  CHARGE  & 
OTHER  POEMS 

By 

CARL  BRYAN  RAYBURN 


1920 

HARR  WAGNER  PUBLISHING  CO. 

SAN  FRANCISCO 

CALIFORNIA 


Copyright  by 

Carl  Bryan  Rayburn 

1920 


To  the  sacred  memory  of  my 

MOTHER 
this  'volume  is  dedicated 


Dinuba,  California, 
December  30, 


425719 


CONTENTS 

Page 

Foreword    .        .        .        .        .        .        •        •  v 

A  Dream  of  Dreams  ......  6 

The  Charge 15 

The  Music  Everlasting      .                 .        .        .  25 

Under  the  Stars  and  Stripes     ....  26 

The  Dixie  Volunteer  ...        .        .        .  27 

The  Night  ........  29 

The  Wintry  Night      ......  30 

Spring 31 

To  a  River 32 

Night  in  the  Hills      .        .        .                 -  .     •  34 

The  Violin's  Lament 35 

The  Angel  of  Dream 36 

Music  in  the  Night .37 

Liladore 39 

The  Solitude  of  Willow  Valley  .        .        .        .  40 

Estanalee    .....                 .        .  42 

Eternity  Bids  Thee  to  Never  Forget        .        .  43 

SONNETS 

To  Memory        .......  44 

To  the  Whippoorwill  ......  45 

To  Solitude 45 

To  the  Dove 46 

Beauty 46 

Sylvinia •       '•        •  47 

A  Puzzle     ........  48 

Upon  Thy  Bank,  O  Gentle  Stream    .         .        .  49 

A  Song  That  Father  Used  to  Sing    ...  50 

Ye  Hills  and  Cliffs .51 

When  Parting  From  a  Friend   .         .         .  '      .  .     52 

Requiescat .53 

Psalm  the  Eighth      .        .  •     '  .        .        •        •  54 

Love  and  Fame  .         .         '•        •                 •        •  55 

The  Trail  of  the  Yukon      .        .....  57 

The  Lake  at  Night     ......  60 

The  Desert's  Call       .        .        .        •        •        •  63 

L'Envoi                .        .        .        .        •        •        •  65 


FOREWORD 

'TTT'HESE  poems  are  published  ver- 
VJ-X  batim,  without  modification  from 
the  original  compositions,  which  were 
written  in  the  days  of  boyhood  and 
early  youth;  and,  though  there  is 
much  room  for  improvement  in  many 
instances,  they  are  submitted  to  the 
public  with  the  hope  that  they  will 
not  be  too  severely  censured  for  what 
ever  poetic  violations  may  appear. 
Should  a  few  distant  and  scattered 
friends  find  even  a  single  pleasure  in 
these  verses,  I  shall  be  happy  and 
grateful. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


A  DREAM  o/DREAMS,  The  CHARGE 
OTHER  POEMS 


A  Dream  of  Dreams 

Fond  Muse  of  Life!  if  thou  couldst  sing 

In  sweet  accordance  with  my  dream, 
Then  would  thy  tuneful  numbers  cling 
Unto  a  fair,  enchanted  stream 
Which  now  reflects  a  fading  beam 
Of  days  that  vanished  with  the  spring. 
What,  then,  undying  Hope,  can  bring 
Boyhood,  when  all  was  most  divine, 
And  nothing  of  the  world  was  mine? 
What  can  these  pleasures  half  restore 
Except  a  dream  of  days  before  ? 
Then,  spirit  of  a  higher  clime, 

Ascending  on  unweighted  wings, 
When  thou  hast  flown  to  heights  sublime, 

Send  down  a  picture  of  the  things 
That  wakened  Infancy's  pure  dreams 
Which  slumber  by  the  crystal  streams. 

What  though  old,  dull  Reality, 

Realizing  only  that  which  is, 
Know  not  the  things  that  ought  to  be, 

In  dreams  yet  Fancy  finds  a  bliss ; 
For  still  that  brightest  fire  of  fire 
Will  in  the  darkest  gloom  inspire 
The  soul,  which  fain  would  fall  asleep 
Upon  the  billows  of  the  Deep, 
Were  it  not  for  that  flame  divine, 
Which  gazers  of  Chaldean  line 
Beheld  within  the  silent  skies, 
Where  Light  celestial  never  dies. 
For  who  has  never  watched  the  glow, 


6          A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

As  dreamers  of  old  Eyraco, 
Of  sleepy  stars,  and  hear  the  call 
Of  deeper  meaning,  which  will  fall 
Across  the  silence  of  the  spheres, 
And  move  the  sensitive  soul  to  tears? 

0  Dream  of  Life !  thou  art  my  own, 
Crowned  on  a  sempiternal  throne: 
That  magic  halo  cannot  fade — 

Of  endless  glory  it  was  made ! 

1  would  not  try  to  picture  what 
The  poets  call  angelic  thought; 
Yet  once  within  a  vision  rare, 

The  form  of  Beauty  sweet  and  fair, 
Clothed  in  a  radiant  loveliness, 
Surpassing  in  sad  gracefulness, 
I  faintly  saw ; — and  Nature  wild 
Gave  back  her  image  to  a  child. 
But — thoughts  of  sadness  stealing  on 

With  sadder  memories  of  the  years, 
And  childish  yearnings  having  gone 

Into  a  misty  past  of  tears — 
I  saw  a  look  in  Beauty's  eye 
That  made  me  tremble ;  and  the  sky 
Gave  signs  that  far  away  a  cloud 
Had  o'er  a  mountain  summit  bowed. 

Then  Melancholy,  brooding  low 
Beneath  the  zenith  of  a  star 
Whose  silvery  splendor  shone  afar, 
Half  hid  the  pale,  intenser  glow 
That  shone  in  shrouded  space  the  while ; 
And  cast  a  shadow  o'er  the  smile 
Of  weeping  Beauty,  on  whose  face 
A  look  of  sadness  I  could  trace. 
And,  standing  in  the  stilly  Night, 
And  gazing  at  the  lonely  light, 
I  felt  that  every  hour  of  pain 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

Must  leave  the  soul  to  peace  again, 
That  all  the  days  of  perfect  bliss 
A  sigh  of  sorrow  never  miss ; — 
For  e'en  the  sweetest  Lydian  lays, 
Arising  from  the  sylvan  streams, 
And  filled  with  notes  of  fairy  dreams, 
Oft  breathe  of  dark  and  dismal  days. 

From  out  the  solitudes  there  came 
A  breath  of  music;  who  can  name 
Such  mystic  notes  that  softly  swell 
On  fading  twilight,  there  to  dwell 
In  deep,  heart-rending,  fatal  sounds, 
Invading  Music's  sacred  bounds? 
That  music  fell  upon  my  soul 

In  strange  emotion,  in  which  pain 
Of  all  forgotten  years  that  roll 

Was  mingled  with  delight  again. 
And  in  the  years  I  grew  to  love 
The  voice  of  Music,  and  to  rove — 
To  listen — hunger  for  the  breath 
That  lulled  the  silence  into  death : — 
The  dreamy  "music  of  the  spheres" 
Moved  Nature  to  her  morning  tears ! 

In  Nature's  kingdom  first  I  found 

A  freedom  which  defied  restraint, 
And,  wand'ring  in  the  wilds  around, 

I  saw  the  fading  twilight  paint 

Immortal  glory  of  a  saint, 
Whose  lofty  brow  the  stars  soon  crowned; 

And  then  I  heard  a  calling  faint — 
It  came  not  from  this  lowly  ground — 

But  from  the  sunset's  golden  taint 
It  drifted  in  a  meaning  sound. 

Upon  me  came  a  rapture  quaint ; 

But,  ah !  I  answered  in  complaint, 
And  soon  the  gentle  voice  was  drowned! 


8          A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

Formosns  Miinus!  but  to  see 
A  glimpse  of  vast  Eternity 
Is  to  behold  an  awful  space, 
On  which  Time  leaves  no  tiny  trace ; — 
And  yet  my  spirit,  young  and  proud, 
And  wand'ring  like  an  aimless  cloud, 
Once  dared  to  roam  the  darkness  through 
And  feel  Death's  ever-falling  dew. 
But, — though  the  shadows  grim  are  there, 
And  fear  dwells  in  the  gloomy  air, 
There  is  a  Place,  a  great  Beyond, 
On  which  a  shade  has  never  dawned, 
To  which  the  sinless  soul  may  fly 
Beneath  the  everlasting  Sky, — 
Then,  as  my  heart  was  filled  with  fear, 
And  strange,  abysmal  mist  was  near, 
My  spirit  shuddered — fainted — fell 
Back  to  a  smiling,  earthly  dell. 

And  in  that  vale,  when  morning  fell, 
A  murmuring  melody  did  swell, 
And  tune  the  merry,  wanton  bird 
Which  o'er  the  waking  valley  whirred ; 

And  in  the  tinkle  of  a  bell 

Which  in  the  pasture  near  was  heard, 
To  me  there  came  a  happy  thrill — 
And  life  was  full  and  sweeter  still — 
The  morning  praises  filled  the  air — 
And  Nature  was  so  strangely  fair — 

The  while  I  stood  and  listened,  till 

It  seemed  a  Paradise  were  there! 

And  when  the  countless  stars  of  Night, 
Those  timid  sparks  of  Heaven's  fire, 

Within  the  midnight  silence  shone, 
The  pensive  twinkling  of  their  light 
Brought  to  my  soul  a  sad  desire 

To  climb  up  to  the  mountains'  throne; 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

And  there  forever  sit,  and  gaze 
Upon  the  weird,  golden  haze, — 
There  on  the  summit  dream  away, 
In  solitude,  both  night  and  day. 
But,  when  the  mystic  moon  had  bowed 
Above  a  lone,  horizon  cloud, 

Increasing,  as  she  higher  rose, 
The  pearly  splendor  of  her  beams 
Along  the  haunted  banks  of  streams, 

'Twas  then  instinctively  I  chose, 
From  other  things  which  then  were  mine, 
The  pathos  of  a  thought  divine. 

The  murmuring  music  of  the  showers 
Descending  from  the  closing  flowers, 
Within  a  cottage  once  I  heard 
That  lonesome  rhythm,  which  no  word 
Can  half  suggest;  and  to  my  heart, 
As  if  it  were  my  only  part, 

The  dismal  dropping  of  the  rain 
Upon  the  dripping  roof  again 
Sent  something  of  a  sweeter  pain. 
Then,  listening  to  the  drowsy  sound, 
By  dreamy  Slumber  I  was  bound, 
Who  passed  before  my  watchful  eyes 
Fair  pictures  of  the  azure  skies — 
And  all  the  while  I  vainly  tried 
To  hear  the  falling  rain  outside ! 

When  but  a  child,  I  early  read 
Of  poets'  visions  of  the  Dead, 
Their  good  description  of  a  time 
When  to  the  soul,  like  theirs,  sublime, 
A  shining  angel  comes  to  guide 
The  spirit  o'er  the  Stygian  tide. 
And,  then,  I  thought,  within  the  tomb 
There  is  a  glory  in  the  gloom: 
"0  Death,  where  is  thy  victory? 


10        A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

0  Grave,  where  is  thy  stain?" 
The  sinless  spirit  soon  shall  see 

The  smile  of  God  again! 
What  though  the  drifted,  wintry  snow 
Keep  white  the  nameless  mound  below, 
The  soul  can  never,  God,  I  know, 
Hear  chilly  winds  that  rage  and  blow; 
Nor  will  it  feel,  in  sacred  trust, 
The  dreamless  silence  of  the  dust. 
But,  0  fort una  Mors!  thou  art 
Not  ruler  of  the  human  heart. 

For  Love  will  conquer  in  the  End, 

And  is  the  very  breath  of  Life ; 
And  Truth  and  Honor  shall  ascend 

In  triumph  o'er  this  mortal  strife, 
To  bear  the  soul  of  noble  aim 
To  justice  and  eternal  fame. 
And  on  the  waters  of  the  Deep, 

Where  Wrong  assails  the  crossing  soul, 
Behold !  the  billows  fall  asleep 

And  on  the  surface  cease  to  roll, 
If  Love  but  speak  a  word  of  cheer, 
Or  smile  in  lasting  brightness  near. 
Immortal  Love !  Creation  kneels 

Before  thy  white,  eternal  throne; 
The  humble  spirit  nobly  feels 

Desire  to  live  for  thee  alone ! 

The  rising  splendor  of  the  day 
Shed  dewy  fragrance  o'er  the  way ; 
The  gentle  sighing  of  the  breeze 
Was  heard  among  the  forest  trees ; 
The  streamlet,  gliding  slowly  by, 
Gave  back  the  color  of  the  sky ; 
Somewhere  within  the  hidden  bowers 
Then  woke  the  lovely,  blooming  flowers ; 
A  sweet  effulgence  filled  the  air 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems        11 

And  made  the  dome  of  heavens  fair ; 
And  Nature,  glorious  in  her  hue, 
Into  surpassing  beauty  grew ; — 
And  that  was  all — but  yet  a  thrill 
Gave  life  to  valley,  vale,  and  hill ! 
That  magic  thrill  glad  Nature  felt, 
And  in  a  solemn  worship  knelt, — 
Ah!  was  it  Love,  from  Heaven  sent, 
That  such  a  mighty  rapture  lent 
To  Earth?    0  God  of  all  divine! 
That  love,  I  thought,  was  even  mine ! 

And  when  the  raging  storm  was  nigh, 

And  darkness  covered  all  the  sky, 

I  watched  the  lightning  flame  and  flash ; 

While  came  the  thunder's  distant  crash 

Which  rolled  in  rumbling  echoes  far, 

Like  tumult  of  a  fearful  war. 

And  when  the  quivering  light  was  cast, 

And  deeper  still  the  thunder  rolled, 
My  spirit  rose  upon  the  blast 

Which  all  the  trembling  skies  patroled ; — 
In  such  a  restless  spirit  might 
Derive  a  battle-fierce  delight, 
And  learn  to  lose  is  but  to  win — 
In  such  my  spirit  reveled  in. 

Perhaps  within  the  kingly  mind 

The  youthful  passions  never  dwen, 
Nor  in  relentless  power  bind 

Great  souls  in  Heaven — or  in  Hell ; 
But  yet  such  passions,  as  are  strong 

And  dominating  o'er  the  will, 
Will  rarely  lead  the  soul  to  wrong 

Against  its  earnest  efforts  still. 
Then,  Heaven,  wilt  though  vindicate 
The  stern  decrees  of  heartless  Fate? 


12         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

For  I,  when  but  a  sinless  child, 
Knew  something  of  the  passions  wild; 
Then,  even  then,  within  my  breast 
There  throbbed  a  fanciful  unrest, 
A  longing  for  mysterious  things 
Which  hovered  near  on  phantom  wings ; 
1  felt  Ambition's  first  desire 
To  climb,  beneath  that  ethereal  fire, 
To  higher  regions,  and  to  feel 
Eternal  glory  round  me  steal ! 
And  then  I  felt,  I  know  not  how, 
That  bitter  sweetness  more  than  now: 
The  history  of  a  thousand  years 
Came  o'er  me  like  a  flood  of  tears ; 
And  memories  I  had  known  before 
Above  me  seemed  to  lightly  soar; — 
Then,  like  the  weeping  willow's  sigh, 
My  foolish  dreams  were  passing  by. 

Who  would  exchange  the  days  of  Youth, 
Life's  golden,  cloudless  summertime, 
For  those,  when  Man  is  in  his  prime 

And  learns  a  philosophic  truth? 

The  Youth  is  stronger  than  the  Man : 
His  thoughts  are  just,  his  heart  is  free, 
His  knowledge  pure  and  lofty  yet; 

For  when  his  spotless  days  began, 
He  knew  what  was  and  what  would  be, 
And  still  his  soul  with  dew  was  wet! 

The  sinful,  selfish  world  must  bow 
In  shame  before  his  fearless  eye ; 
Must  know  him  as  he  passes  by ; — 

There  shines  a  glory  on  his  brow ! 

But,  ah !  they  pass,  those  youthful  days, 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems        13 

And  still  their  faintest  memory  stays; 
Then  manhood  grows  into  old  age, 
When,  wise  and  venerable,  the  sage 
Rehearses  wisdom's  favorite  theme, 
Or  dwells  upon  some  sainted  dream. 
Yet,  what  is  Life?  and  what  is  Death? 
And  what  that  highest  passion,  Love  ? 
Who  can  its  mission  here  define? 
Or  is  it  something  more  divine, 
And  in  its  calling  far  above, 
The  mystery  of  the  mortal  breath  ? 
But  still  Eternity  reveals 

An  answer  on  Time's  secret  page; 
Which  fleeting  ages  will  attest 
To  be  the  light  of  Wisdom's  crest. 
And,  wondering  to  himself,  the  sage 
Half  sees  the  words  that  Time  conceals. 

Then  Life  is  but  a  dream  of  dreams, 

And  ail  its  mysticism  seems 

A  harbinger  of  what  will  be 

The  part  of  every  destiny. 

And  when  the  evening  lights  recede 

Behind  the  shadow  of  each  deed, 

The  soul  of  Man  will  recognize 

That  lesser  glory,  and  realize 

That  none  have  ever  learned  the  whole 

Which  veils  the  secrets  of  the  Soul. 

Yet  Truth  and  Beauty  are  allied 

Above  the  deep,  eternal  tide 

To  bear  Life's  victory-emblem,  "Love," 

The  restless  stream  of  Time  above. 

Then  in  the  moments  last  and  gray, 

Thou,  Muse  of  Life,  will  look  away 


14        A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

Across  each  summer  of  the  Past, 
Where  Memory's  light  is  dimly  cast ; 
The  soul  will  listen  to  the  sounds 
Escaping  from  the  nameless  bounds ; 
And  Azrael,  pausing  in  his  flight, 
Will  hesitate  on  Earth  to  light. 
Then,  Muse  of  Life !  if  thou  couldst  sing 

In  harmony  with  every  dream, 
Then  would  thy  notes  of  mystery  cling 

To  Life  and  Love,  which  ever  seem 
A  spell  within  a  golden  mist, 
By  beams  of  clouded  magic  kist. 
But  now  thy  song  I  hear  no  more : 
Its  tune  hath  died  upon  the  shore. 
Then,  spirit  of  a  higher  clime, 

Descending  on  thy  weary  wings, 
Forsaking  now  those  heights  sublime, 

Reclaim  thy  picture  of  the  things 
Which  in  their  mystic  beauty  seem 
To  be  the  vision  of  Life's  dream. 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems        15 


The  Charge 


The  night  had  passed;  and  o'er  embattled 

lines 
Of   bleeding   France   the   troubled   sun 

arose, 

And  looked  again  upon  the  broken  shrines 
Which  gave  sad  proof  of  War's  unfeeling 

woes; 
While  in  the  beauty  of  Dawn's   early 

glows, 
The  dews,  tears  shed  by  Nature  for  the 

slain, 

Clung  to  the  lilies  by  the  solemn  rows, 
In  which  slept  those  who  ne'er  did  wake 

again 
To  meet  the  rushing  foe  upon  the  battle-plain. 

Like  some  grim  space  of  death,  the  No 

Man's  Land 
Between  the  great,   contending  armies 

lay; 
Upon    one    side    four    lines    of    trenches 

scanned 

As  many  more  across  the  fatal  way, 
Whose  soil  had  crimson  grown  in  fright 
ful  fray. 

Far,  far  behind,  the  mighty  cannon  stood ; 
And  fresh  battalions,  brought  up  for  the 

day, 
Concealed  themselves  within  the  haunted 

wood, 

Whose  dying  leaves  were  stained  with  fallen 
heroes'  blood. 


16        A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

A  firing  line  four  hundred  miles  in  length ! 

Ten  million  men  in  Battle's  grand  array ! 

Grim    nations,     clad    in    War's    divided 

strength, 
The  mighty  conflict  wage  thru  night  and 

day! 
Two   flaming  fronts   the  long  advance 

delay ; 
While  over  all  the  long-winged  monsters 

soar 

In  aerial  skirmish,  as  adown  the  way, 
Thru  dizzy  heights,  some  plunge  to  rise 

no  more; 

And  rolls  afar  and  near  the  cannons'  heavy 
roar! 

Ye  sons  of  Freedom,  turn,  and  gaze  upon 
The  desolated  miles  that  westward  lie : 
The  fruitful  fields  and  happy  homes  are 

gone, 
And  naught  but  devastation  meets  the 

eye! 

Beneath  the  haunting  horrors  of  the  sky, 
The  shattered  towns  of  France  and  Bel 
gium  tell 

Of  bloody  hosts  that  marched  in  tri 
umph  by; 
The    ravaged    plains,    where   church    and 

castle  fell, 

Bear  witness  of  the  crimes  dark  as  the  depths 
of  Hell! 

Then,  for  the  sake  of  sweet  humanity, 
For  sacred  rights  secured  in  other  years, 

For  God  who  granted  us  our  liberty, 
For  Belgium's  slain  and  mothers'  holy 
tears, 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems         17 

Strike  hard  the  foe,  dark  Tyranny,  who 

sneers, 
With  armored  smile  and  dripping  hands, 

at  Right. 
And  courage  take;  for  now  the  crisis 

nears : 

Fresh  from  their  victory  of  the  recent  fight, 
The  German-Austrian  guns  howl  in  a  red 
delight. 

Now  all  is  ready  for  the  Allies'  charge ; 

Expectant  now  the  eager  soldiers  wait, 
And,  though  they  know  opposing  odds  are 

large, 

They  fear  not  either  battle  or  its  fate. 
Now  for  a  while  the  shell  and  bomb  abate 
Their  warning  crash ;  four  sectors  now  are 

tense 

With  sudden  silence ;  and  yet  hesitate 
The  smaller  guns  along  the  first  defense, 
Where  upward  drifts  the  smoke  as  if  it  were 
incense. 

Now  all  the  rear  shakes  with  a  sudden 

roar — 

It  is  the  signal,  soon  another  blast 
Breaks  on  the  air  as  sullen  as  before; 
The  nearer  guns  begin  their  firing  fast. 
Above  the  hostile  trenches  now  is  cast 
A    fitful    cloud    of    shattered    earth    and 

smoke ; 
A  thunderous  boom,  more  frightful  than 

the  last, 

Rolls  from  behind  the  enemy  lines ;  a  cloak 
Of  flame  shows  where  their  heavy  field  artil 
lery  spoke. 


18         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

Leap  from  the  trenches  now  the  waiting 

men, 
Eight  thousand  to  each  nation  on  that 

side. 
Well  armed,  they  hurry,  run,  and  fire,  and 

then 
Drop  down  a  moment  where  they  best 

can  hide; 

Then  up  and  onward;  for  a  region  wide 
Still  parts  them  from  the  distant  trenches, 

where 

A  battery,  blushing  in  undaunted  pride, 
Repeats  its  warning  in  an  angry  glare, 
Which  flames  up  redder  still  and  warms  the 
foggy  air. 

The  raiders  hurry  on;  the  columns  blaze 
With  rifle  fire  along  the  rushing  lines ; 
The  rockets  high  within  the  heavens  glaze 
A  ghostly  streak  which  for  a  moment 

shines ; 

While  every  airy  current  sadly  whines 
A  fatal  song;  and  now  the  dropping  shells 
Begin  to  burst  and  leave  their  scarlet 

signs; 

Of  planes  above  the  bomb's  explosion  tells ; 
Now  falls  a  whole  brigade,  the  din  of  battle 
swells ! 

The  charge  is  on!    Beneath  the  flag  they 

love, 
The  Yankee  lads  are  plunging  thru  the 

storm; 

In  splendor  bright  Old  Glory  waves  above 
A  host  that  scorns  the  danger  and  alarm ! 
Undaunted  youths !  their  fearless  hearts 
are  warm 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems        19 

With  battle-rage:  the  struggle  fierce  they 

lead 
To  hotter  strife,  in  which  they  bravely 

form 

To  fight  for  Justice ;  and  each  daring  deed 
Commends  to  God  above  the  wounded  ones 
that  bleed. 

The  conflict  having  desperate  grown,  now 

surge 

The  human  billows  of  the  charging  mass ; 
O'er    broken    land    the    staggering    lines 

emerge, 

Some  lost  within  the  shelter  of  a  pass. 
The  Teuton  fire  is  scorching  them,  alas! 
The  sun  is  hidden  by  the  lightning-cloud, 
Where  fly  the  bolts  of  steel  and  iron  and 

brass ; — 
The  armored  cars  and  stubborn  tanks  have 

plowed 

The  way  thru  jagged  wire — more  speed  is 
now  allowed. 

At  last  the  No  Man's  Land  is  crossed:  a 

deep 
And  shattered  remnant  of  a  trench  is 

found ; 
Great  heaps  of  grey,  some  dead  in  bloody 

sleep, 

Lie    scattered    in    the    passage    under 
ground. 
No  time  to  lose!  behind  yon  trembling 

mound, 

The  second  trench,  formidable  and  grim, 
Is    shaken    with    the    cannons'    quick 
rebound ; 


20         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

On  with  the  charge !    The  light  is  growing 

dim! 

Machine-gun  bullets  hum  a  stirring  battle- 
hymn! 

So  toward  the  next  embankments  now  they 

press ; 

Again  the  network  of  entangled  wire 
Delays  the  stricken  front;  in  loud  distress 
The  shrapnel  howls  above  the  thirsty 

fire. 

Now  for  a  while  the  charging  arms  re 
tire; 
And  swift  the  foe  comes  rushing  o'er  the 

top! 
Have  at  'em,  boys!  their  helmets  but 

inspire 
Each  manly  breast  their  countercharge  to 

stop! 

Before  the  rifle  range  a  thousand  comrades 
drop ! 

The  charge  is  on!    The  heavens  rock  and 

reel ! 
The  earth  is  trembling  with  the  mighty 

blast! 

The  bursting  clouds  of  flaming  smoke  con 
ceal 
The  reeking  holes  filled  with  the  dead  at 

last! 
Long  lights  of  streaming  colors  now  are 

cast 

In  blazing  beauty  where  the  banners  soar! 
And  ere  the  shells'  combustion  deep  is 

past, 

Like  thunder  booms  the  bombs'  tremen 
dous  roar; 

And  still  the  tempest  sweeps  above,  behind, 
before! 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems        21 

On  with  the  charge !    They  yell  in  foaming 

rage ! 

Here  fellows  fall  without  another  breath ; 
There  hand  to  hand  the  struggle  fierce  they 

wage; 
The  ground  is  broken  by  the  shock  of 

Death ! 

Ho!  giving  way  the  dreadful  charge  be 
neath, 
The  enemy  is  falling  back ;  their  dead 

Left  lying  under  clouds  of  gory  wreath. 
The  second  trench  is  taken;  but  ahead 
Two  lines  of  trenches  still  speak  out  their 
challenge  red. 

Then  on  again ;  for  Freedom  leads  the  way, 
And  Courage  follows  close  on  Valor's 

heels ! 

Ah !  many  a  lad  has  fallen  on  this  day ; 
But  yet  the  note  of  battle-glory  peals 
Upon  the  blasted  air,  which  half  reveals 
The  distant  cannon  by  huge  motors  drawn. 
Each  soul  again  the  fighting  spirit  feels : 
On  with  the  charge!     The  day  is  nearly 

gone; 
And  rises  on  the  din  the  cry  of  "Carry  on!" 

The  third  line  trench  is  taken;  and  arrive 
Fresh  companies  from  the  Allies'  distant 

rear. 

Sons  of  America!  'tis  yours  to  drive 
Those  whom  your  brothers  met  without 

a  fear ! 
Avenge  your  fallen  friends  and  comrades 

dear! 
But  lo!  no  need  to  rouse  these  stalwart 

sons: 

With  fortitude  the  flaming  trench  they 
near, 


22         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

Some  falling  here  and  there  before  those 

guns 

That  roar  and  tremble  with  the  anger  of  the 
Huns. 

The  charge  is  on!    The  smoke  is  spurting 

high; 

Machine-guns  rattle  in  the  ditch  again; 

The  rifles  flash,  the  rockets  scale  the  sky; 

The  thunders  roll  above  the  leaden  rain 

Which  falls  in  pools  red  with  a  gory 

stain. 
Shock  follows  shock ;  swift  colors  dart  and 

stream 
Above  the  crash  that  shakes  the  stricken 

plain ; 

And,  where  the  lights  of  battle-glory  gleam, 
There  fades  on  many  an  eye  Life's  last  de 
parting  beam. 

Yet  on  the  grim,  surviving  raiders  sweep! 
The  shells  and  bullets  drown  each  furious 

yell; 

Upon  the  banks  the  last  defenders  leap 
In  greater  numbers  than  the  eye  can  tell ; 
And  now  the  trench  is  but  a  surging 

hell: 
Within  the  flames,  they  lunge  and  fire  and 

clash, 
Above  the  din  the    shouts    discordant 

swell, 

Close  followed  by  a  far-resounding  crash; 
And  o'er  the  ragged  trench  ten  thousand 
Teutons  dash. 

But  hark !  the  tumult  now  is  dying  slow, 
And  lo !  the  smoke  is  carried  far  at  last ; 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems         23 

The  crumbling  trench  has  ceased  to  flame 

and  glow, 
The  dreadful  charge  and  battle  fierce  are 

past. 
The   weary   prisoners,    bound   together 

fast, 
March   slowly  where   not  long  ago  they 

drew 

The  deadly  aim,  or  met  the  raging  blast ; 
And  where  their  own  imperial  banner  flew, 
In  triumph  waves  on  high  the  Red  and  White 
and  Blue ! 

0  fearless  lads  beneath  the  Stripes  and 

Stars! 

Sons  of  the  Land  predestined  to  be  free ! 
That  spirit,  which  hath  won  in  other  wars, 
Here  leads  you  on  for  grand  Democracy, 
Who  strikes  the  chains  of  base  Autoc 
racy; 
And  here,  where  that  despotic  force  was 

drawn 

To  crush  the  rights  of  all  humanity, 
Across  this  plain  you  rushed  and  followed 

on, 

And    made    another    Chauteau-Thierry    or 
Argonne ! 

And  here  resign  your  comrades  slain  to 

God. 
With  their  bright  blood  here  Freedom 

sets  her  flame 

Of  light  undying  o'er  this  sacred  sod ; 
And   Time   records   their   fair,   eternal 

fame. 
Above    each    grave    then    breathe    the 

precious  name, 
And  kneel  in  memory  of  the  one  beneath, 


24        A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

Who  from  his  home  across  the  waters 

came 

To  help  defeat  the  Plan  of  Nations'  Death, 
But  who  now  calmly  lies  'neath  Glory's  battle- 
wreath  ! 

Some  day,  0  noble  Mothers  of  the  dead ! 
Those  loving  sons  up  yonder  ye  shall 

meet. 
Your  yearning  hearts  the  most  of  all  have 

bled 

In  silent  conflict,  but  not  in  defeat : 
In  lonely  hours,  when  grief  and  sorrow 

beat 

Against  the  courage  of  your  tender  love, 
Ye    conquered    then    in    prayer,    God's 

mercy-seat ; 

With  bravery,  such  as  only  mothers  prove, 
Ye  trusted  all  to  Him  who  reigns  in  peace 
above ! 

The  day  had  passed;  and  o'er  the  battle 
field 
In  sorrow  gazed  the  watchful  stars  of 

Night; 
The  scene  of  charge  was  thru  the  mist 

revealed 
Beneath  the  moon's  sad  flood  of  yellow 

light. 
And  yet  a  glory,  sweet  and  strangely 

bright, 

Shed  peerless  beauty  earth  and  sky  be 
tween  ; 
And   soldiers,   weary   from   the   bloody 

fight, 
Lay  dreaming  on  that    plain  of    scarlet 

sheen, 

And  saw  the  angel  Peace  sail  o'er  a  land 
serene ! 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems        25 


The  Music  Everlasting 

A  song  of  sacred  feeling 

From  somewhere  in  the  night, 
Across  the  shadows  stealing, 

Holds  mute  the  starry  light ; 
It  rises  slow  beneath  the  glow, 

Upon  a  mystic  height. 

Across  the  waters  glancing, 
Above  that  boundless  sea, 

The  spirits,  lightly  dancing, 
Hark  to  the  melody 
Which  over  vine  and  tree 

Celestial  floats  in  far-off  notes, 
O'er  strange  Eternity ! 

A  soul,  without  a  history, 

The  hymn  of  silence  hears ; 
And,  feeling  all  the  mystery 

Which  gathers  from  the  years, 
In  meditation  dreaming 

Of  fleeting  hopes  and  fears, 
To  glory  is  beseeming 

The  silence  of  the  spheres. 

And  from  the  deep,  unbroken 

Infinities  that  roll, 
The  depths  of  Life  unspoken, 

That  music  thrills  the  soul ; 
And  echoes  of  a  token 

From  somewhere  faintly  toll ! 


26        A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

Under  the  Stars  and  Stripes* 

The  blast  of  the  bugle  is  borne  by  the  breeze, 

The  echoes  are  sounding  afar ; 
And  an  army,  preparing  to  cross  the  blue  seas, 

Is  marching  to  the  music  of  war. 
Lo!  upon  the  high  mountain  and  over  the 

plain 

The  columns  now  sweep  into  view ; 
And  0  hark !  for  the  band  is  now  playing  that 

strain, 

Three  Cheers  For  The  Red,  White,  and 
Blue! 

Through  the  morning's  gray  light  rolls  the 
throb  of  the  drum, 

Keeping  time  to  the  martial  tread ; 
While  the  peals  of  the  clarion  heroically  come 

From  the  hills  where  old  heroes  have  led ; 
And  the  pride  of  our  nation,  by  Liberty  blest, 

Now  marches,  half  solemn,  half  gay — 
Beats  the  heart  of  a  hero  in  every  breast ! 

Sons  of  Freedom  in  battle  array ! 

But  the  flag,  which    is    flauntingly    waving 
above, 

That  flag  of  the  stripes  and  the  stars, 
Most  awakens  within  us  that  battle-born  love 

Which  declares  our  true  freedom  in  wars ; 
For  the  soul  of  our  nation  is  fervently  filled 

With  that  spirit  which  never  can  die, 
And  the  heart  of  our  nation  divinely  is 
thrilled 

By  that  banner  which  ever  shall  fly. 


*Written  soon  after  the  declaration  of  war  between  the  United 
States  and  Germany. 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems         27 

And  well  may  the  soldier,  who  marches  away 

In  the  ranks  of  the  brave  and  the  free, 
Feel  the  pride  and  the  glory,  which  with  him 
will  stay 

'Neath  our  banner,  on  land  or  on  sea. 
And  through  the  long  ages  that  yet  are  to 
come, 

If  tyrants  that  banner  defy, 
At  the  blast  of  the  bugle  and  roll  of  the  drum, 

Brave  freemen  will  hasten  to  die ! 


The  Dixie  Volunteer 

The  crimson  work  of  War  is  done, 

The  battle's  storm  is  o'er ; 
But  many  a  brave  and  gallant  son 

Shall  see  his  land  no  more. 
There  Fame's  immortal  heroes  lie 

In  Glory's  honored  grave, 
And  Freedom  watches,  in  the  sky, 

Above  her  fallen  brave. 

The  call  to  arms  came  speeding  on 

The  wings  of  April  breeze, 
While  sped  the  cry  at  break  of  dawn 

Across  the  troubled  seas ; 
And  ere  the  bugle's  blast  had  died 

Above  the  mountaineer, 
Came  marching,  in  his  southern  pride, 

The  Dixie  volunteer! 


28         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

In  France,  across  the  ocean  far, 

He  fought  in  Freedom's  name, 
And  in  the  fiercest  of  the  war 

He  won  eternal  fame ; 
For  when  the  dreadful  charge  was  made 

Upon  the  German  ranks, 
He  fell,  amid  the  fearful  raid, 

Upon  the  trenches'  banks. 

They  found  him  'neath  the  stars  of  night, 

His  young  blood  still  and  cold; — 
Heroic  warrior  of  the  fight! 

His  name  is  not  untold: 
Before  him  lay  a  wounded  Hun, 

Beside  another  dead. 
Revealing  that  old  Dixie's  son 

Was  not  the  first  that  bled ! 

Somewhere  in  France  he  lies  in  peace, 

Above  him  is  no  tomb; 
But  never  shall  the  lilies  cease 

Around  his  grave  to  bloom. 
Nor  shall  the  voices  o'er  that  mound 

Disturb  the  silent  rest 
Of  him  who  sleeps  beneath  the  ground, 

By  Victory  proudly  blest. 

No  more  he  tramps  with  martial  tread 

Toward  the  struggling  lines ; 
Nor  does  he  watch  the  plane  o'erhead, 

Its  movements,  and  its  signs; 
No  longer  in  the  trench  he  hears 

The  Captain's  quick  command, 
Amid  the  battle's  thund'ring  fears, 

To  cross  the  No  Man's  Land. 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems         29 

No  more  he  dashes  o'er  the  plain 

Of  blood  and  smoke  and  fire; 
Nor  shall  the  cannons'  roar  again 

His  dauntless  soul  inspire. 
For  in  the  hallowed  space  he  lies, 

Clothed  in  a  glory  proud, 
Whose  light  has  banished  from  those  skies 

Autocracy's  low  cloud. 

Son  of  the  Dark  and  Bloody  Ground ! 

On  old  Kentucky's  shore 
The  call  of  Freedom  shall  resound 

Within  thine  ears  no  more. 
Thy  native  hills  in  mourning  shed 

For  thee  a  solemn  tear, 
And  proudly  claim  their  noblest  dead — 

The  Dixie  volunteer! 


The  Night 

The  golden  light  hath  faded  o'er  the  hill, 

Now  silent  falls  the  gath'ring  gloom  of 
Night, 

The  skies  are  beautiful  by  starry  light; 
And  o'er  the  mist  there  seems  a  mystic  thrill 

Which  fills  the  soul  with  music  and  delight. 
Upon  the  mountains  play  the  dancing  beams, 

The  valleys  sparkle  in  their  dewy  gems, 
While  o'er  the  lake  the  airy  angel  dreams, 

And  from  the  fields  arise  the  holy  hymns. 
Faint  music  drifts  from  out  the  midnight 
skies ; 

Celestial  sounds  the  melody  that  floats 
From  where  the  love  of  Heaven  sacred  lies, 

Like  echoes  from  the  happy  angels'  notes 
Which  from  the  harps  of  Heaven  softly  rise. 
A  paradise  doth  Nature  still  reveal, 
And  giveth  us  what  Life  cannot  conceal ! 


30        A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 


The  Wintry  Night 

Blow,  winds  of  Winter,  blow 

Across  the  frozen  stream  and  wood 

And  field  of  drifted  snow, 

Above  the  icy  gems  that  glitter 

Beneath  the  stars'  pale  glow ; 

Blow,  winds  of  Winter,  blow. 

Howl,  winds  of  Winter,  howl, 

And  break  the  silence  of  the  night. 

Alone  the  sheltered  owl, 

Somewhere  within  the  dreary  distance, 

Bemoans  the  weather  foul ; 

Howl,  winds  of  Winter,  howl. 

Wail,  winds  of  Winter,  wail 

Around  the  corners  of  the  house. 

We  listen  to  a  tale, 

Or  crack  the  nuts  before  the  fireplace 

And  pick  them  with  a  nail ; 

Wail,  winds  of  Winter,  wail. 

Bring,  winds  of  Winter,  bring 
Dim  visions  from  the  dreary  past 

Of  those  who  once  did  sing 

On  wintry  nights  when  ye  were  howling. 

Our  memories  to  them  cling ; — 

These  visions  bring,  oh,  bring! 


A  Dream,  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems         31 

Spring 

From  the  south,  in  her  love  that  is  shining 

Far  across  the  lone  valley  and  hill, 
Cometh  Spring  in  her  gay-colored  lining; 

And  all  Nature  is  feeling  her  thrill. 
Gentle  breezes  around  her  are  sighing 

In  a  music,  like  sunshine  and  rain ; 
And  the  flowers,  that  seemed  to  be  dying, 

Are  revived  by  the  showers  again ! 

The  trees  in  the  orchard  are  blooming, 

The  blossoms  perfume  the  pure  air, 
And  the  brooklet,  its  murmur  resuming, 

Flows  by  lilies  that  are  smiling  and  fair; 
From  the  maple  and  willow  the  singing 

Of  the  birds  float  upon  the  light  breeze — 
How  the  notes  of  glad  praises  are  ringing 

O'er  the  humming  and  buzzing  of  bees ! 

In  the  woods  the  squirrels  are  playing, 

And  eating  the  buds  on  the  limb, 
While  the  sunset  winds  are  delaying 

The  whippoorwill's  evening  hymn ; 
And  the  shadows,  that  slowly  are  filling 

The  valley  with  mystical  dreams, 
The  deepening  silence  are  thrilling, 

O'er  the  beautiful,  winding  streams. 

0  Spring!  Earth's  gay  voices  are  praising 

Thy  beauty  in  melody  sweet, 
And  the  skies,  that  are  silently  gazing, 

The  echoes  would  gladly  repeat! 
And  visible  angels  are  bearing 

The  songs  to  the  Father  above, 
A  sentence  of  Nature  declaring 

Of  sunshine  and  music  and  love ! 


32        A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 


To  a  River 

0  Silva,  dear  river ! 
Upon  thy  lone  bank, 

Where  the  flowers  of  silver 
The  sunshine  has  drank, 

1  watch  thy  deep  flowing 

To  meadows  away. 
Ever  coming  and  going, 

All  night  and  all  day, 
Thy  waters  are  singing 

A  song  sadly  sweet ; 
Low  music  thou'rt  bringing : 

Thy  murmurs  defeat 
The  sighing  of  sadness, 

Its  moaning  and  groan ; — 
Flow,  rythm  of  gladness, 

In  a  musical  tone ! 

Bright  diamonds  are  gleaming, 

En  jeweled  in  thy  wave; 
The  moonlight  is  streaming 

Across  thy  blue  wave; 
And  the  shore,  lightly  dreaming, 

Is  lulled  by  thy  wave. 
The  whippoorwilFs  singing 

Beneath  the  tall  trees; 
And  the  echoes  are  ringing 

On  the  wings  of  the  breeze, — 
The  breeze  which  is  sighing 

Sad  stories  of  love, — 
Which  faintly  is  sighing 

From  the  heavens  above. 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems         33 


Far  clouds  o'er  thee  floating 

Thy  waters  reveal, 
As  in  the  sky  gloating, 

They  silently  steal. 
Airy  spirits  above  thee 

On  celestial  waves  float, 
And  they  sail  high  above  thee 

In  their  white  airy  boat, 
Ah,  here  the  winged  Muses 

Fly  ever  around, 
While  Fancy  amuses 

The  shadows  around; 
And  often  fond  Memory 

Steals  from  the  dim  Past, 
Bringing  visions — O  Memory! 

Why  can  they  not  last  ? 

0  Silva,  wherever 

Thy  waters  may  glide, 
There  Beauty  forever 

Shall  dwell  on  thy  tide; 
And  Solitude,  seeing 

Her  glory  divine, 
Is  happy  in  being 

Beneath  her  sunshine. 
And,  Silva,  when  billows 

Of  Life  will  roll  high, 
I'll  come  to  thy  willows, 

Beneath  the  blue  sky ; 
And  there,  as  the  rapture 

No  sadness  shall  save, 
Sweet  music  will  capture 

The  song  of  thy  wave! 


34         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

Night  in  the  Hills 

The  golden  light  above  the  sinking  sun 
Has  faded  o'er  the  western,  summer  hill ; 
Light  breezes  play  upon  the  nightly  air 
In  music  low ;  and,  one  by  one,  the  stars 
Now  creep  into  the  silent  heavens  above. 
In  silvery  light  the  glowing  moon  now  climbs 
Into  the  eastern  sky,  and  throws  her  rays 
Of  soft,  majestic  fire  o'er  hill  and  plain, 
Upon  the  tossing  waves  of  lake  and  stream, 
And  o'er  the  shadows  of  still  solitude. 
The  whippoorwilPs  far  chant  is  rising  from 
The  rocky  glen  and  from  the  gloomy  cliff; 
Incessant  are  the  crickets  chirping  low 
Beneath  the  hollow  log  and  rotten  stump ; 
Along  the  fence  and  in  the  orchard  trees, 
In  high  musical  time,  the  katydids 
Are  singing  to  the  ever-list'ning  stars ; 
From  out  the  thicket  comes  the  chorus  of 
The  tuneless  frogs,  upon  the  water's  edge. 
Far,  far  away  the  mighty  forest  lies 
In  slumber  deep;  soft  breezes  steal  between 
The  silent  trees  and  sigh  their  nightly  hymn 
In  mystic  tones;  mysterious  shadows  haunt, 
In  ghostly  forms,  the  lone  recesses  of 
The  wild,  undaunted,  solitary  depths 
Of  Nature  grand.    How  queenly  smiles  the 

moon ! 

She  sends  unsparingly  her  yellow  light 
Which  warms  the  happy  heart  of  Nature. 
0  Nature  wild  and  free !  thy  voices  sweet 
Are  music  unsurpassed  by  band  or  choir 
O  glorious  Night !  thy  music  drifts  unto 
The  zephyrs,  whisp'ring  in  the  airy  mist, 
Where  Truth  and  Beauty  reign  in  love  divine. 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems         35 


The  Violet's  Lament 

Low,  softly,  and  slowly,  upon  the  night  air 
I  send  my  sweet  music  in  melody  rare, 

Beneath  the  starlight, 

The  pale,  silvery  light; 

And  stealing,  faint  stealing  to  breezes  above, 
My  notes  are  revealing  fond  stories  of  love. 

To  the  breezes  they  steal ; 

There  they  faintly  reveal 
Their  rapture,  concealing  a  passionate  love. 
My  harmonies  rise  unto  the  blue  skies, 
Where  the  light  of  fair  heavens 

So  tender  lies, — 
Where  the  love  of  the  angels 

Compassionate  lies. 

Ah,  the  strains,  overflowing 
To  the  stars  which  are  glowing, 
Now  musically  swell, 
Now  rhythmically  swell; 
And  the  flowers,  and  green  bowers, 
And  the  vines  on  the  towers, 
All  feel  a  quaint  spell, — 
A  spell  that  is  ringing,  and  fitfully  bringing 

A  melody  swinging 
Fantastically,  faintly,  and  far. 


36         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

In  the  silence  of  Night, 
When  the  breezes  have  died, 

And  the  voices  of  Nature  are  still, 

My  melodies  flow ; 
And  the  silence  they  fill 

With  moments  that  go 
To  the  heart  of  the  listener, 
Who  sits  in  a  dream 
'Neath  the  stars'  silvery  gleam, 
And  hears  the  quaint  strain 
Of  sad  notes  that  seem, 
Like  a  musical  dream, 

To  sink  to  a  low 
Impassioned  refrain. 
And  never  again 

My  harmonies  shall  rise  unto  the  blue  skies, 
But  mournful  and  slow, 
Faint,  sadly,  and  low, 
My  music  shall  flow 
In  a  weird  refrain 

Which  steals  to  the  heart,  to  never  depart, 
In  a  sad  and  mystical  strain ! 


The  Angel  of  Dream 

The  angel  of  dream,  sweet  angel  of  dream! 
In  dreamland  she's  a  bright  fairy 

Who  brings  a  light  dream 

Beneath  the  moonbeam, 

And  by  the  deep  stream, 
Where  the  spirits  of  slumber  do  tarry ; 

And  in  the  pale  light 

Of  the  mystical  night, 
Her  visions  to  us  she  will  carry. 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems        37 

In  the  still  summer  night, 
When  the  breezes  are  sighing 

A  song  to  the  lonely  trees, 
Comes  the  maiden  of  light 
In  a  rapture  undying, 

To  dwell  in  the  song  of  the  breeze; 
And  the  slumber  that  steals 
O'er  the  fancy  reveals 

The  angels  of  dream  in  the  breeze. 

Forever  may 

This  maiden  fair, 

Pure  as  the  air 
Of  blushing  May, 
In  the  peaceful  dreamland  fly ! 

And  the  lights,  that  seem 

To  be  gleaming  in  a  dream, 
Far  within  the  lonely  sky, 

Will  send  the  sweet  angel  of  dream. 


Music  in  the  Night 

When  music  from  the  violin 

And  from  the  silver-toned  guitar 
Drifts  softly  on  the  evening  wind, 

Beneath  the  early,  silver  star, 
Into  our  souls  faint  Echo  rolls 

The  music  far  and  dying; 
The  low  notes  seem  to  weave  a  dream 

Upon  the  breezes  sighing. 
Romantic  seem  the  twinkling  light, 
The  distant  moon,  the  hush  of  Night; 
And  the  silence  lightly  listens 
To  the  strain, 


38         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

While  the  dewy  diamond  glistens 

On  the  grain 
Which  golden  stand  upon  the  land 

For  miles  and  miles  away. 

Low  the  winds  are  sighing 

High  above; 
Far  the  notes  are  dying 

Full  of  love, 

And  then  faintly  they  rise 
To  the  list'ning  skies, 
Where  the  melody  dies, 

Full  of  love. 

Ah,  sweet  music  has  its  many  nameless 
charms, 

As  it  tunes  the  balmy,  nightly  air ; 
In  its  voices  there  is  something  that  informs 

Us  of  sounds  of  beauty  pure  and  rare. 

Often  as  we  listen  to  the  tune 
Of  a  sad  and  weird  song, 
Then  forgotten  hopes  will  throng 
With  the  happiness  of  birds  in  June ; 
And  once  again 
The  thrilling  strain 
Will  lift  our  souls  to  where  the 
Lord 

Would  have  them  be. 
And  music  will  forever  fill 
The  space  of  great  Eternity! 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems        39 

Liladore 

Blow  soft  and  low,  ye  gentle  winds — steal 

silent  o'er  that  face 
Of  her  whose  spirit  far  has  flown,  but  left  the 

youthful  grace; — 
Ah,  faintly  fan    her    snow-white  brow,  ye 

breezes  from  the  sky ; 
For  upward  through  the  starry  Blue  a  saintly 

soul  did  fly! 
Her  spirit  sweet,  on  wings  so  fleet,  has  flown 

the  river  Death; 
The  flight  was  short,  but  dark  and  swift, — it 

took  her  precious  breath ! 
In  Faith's  fond  arm  she  peaceful  died;  in 

Death's  mysterious  night, 
With  angel  Hope  along  her  side,  she  winged 

her  happy  flight. 
And  as  she  neared  the  Golden  Gate,  a  band  of 

seraphs  came 
In  radiant  flame  outside  the  Gate,  and  sweetly 

sang  her  name ; 
Then  through  the  open  Gate  she  sailed,  and 

all  the  Kingdom  hailed 
Her  as  she  flew  her  home  into,  as  o'er  the 

streets  she  sailed. 

Look  on  her  face !    In  lovely  grace,  there  lin 
gers  still  a  smile ! 
Her  heart  was  pure  as  morning  dew ;  for  her 

there  was  no  trial. 
Ah,  toll  no  bell  and  roll  no  knell,  but  let  them 

silent  be ; 
For  far  above,  where  angels  dwell,  her  soul  is 

singing  free ! 
Above  the  sky  her  spirit  floats  where  angel 

notes  arise ; 

In  Heaven  high  she  gently  floats  where  sing 
ing  never  dies. 


40         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

The  maiden  fair  to  Aideen  there  the  King 

has  called  His  own, 
Where  angels  sing  and  praises  ring  around 

the  mighty  Throne. 
She  joined  that  throng,  where  endless  song 

arise  in  glorious  strain, 
And  in  the  bright,  celestial  light  she  sings  the 

sweet  refrain! 
So  pure  and  rare,  the  one  we  loved,  for  Earth 

too  sweet  and  fair, 
Has  flown  above,  where  all  is  love,  to  breathe 

immortal  air. 
She  sailed  away  where  shine  the  gleam  and 

beam  of  golden  ray, 
Where  ever  stream  the  shining  lights  of  that 

eternal  Day. 
Sweet  Liladore  did  lightly  soar  unto  that 

waiting  Shore ; — 
0  heart!  grieve  not:  she's  happy  and — she's 

gone  forevermore! 


The  Solitude  of  Willow  Valley 

In  the  mountains  by  a  sea 

Lies  the  lonesome  Willow  Valley. 
There  tearfully 
And  dismally, 

The  breezes  from  the  crystal  sea 
O'er  the  shadows  faintly  rally, 
And  sigh  a  song 
Forgotten  long, — 
A  song  of  melancholy  notes ; 

Sad  it  floats 
O'er  the  mountain  to  a  fountain, 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems         41 

Where  it  waits, 
And  fascinates 
The  solitude  of  Willow  Valley. 
From  the  fountain  flows  a  river 

Clear  and  deep ; 
And  the  murmurs  of  that  river 

Lull  asleep 

The  flowers  and  trees, 
And  the  mystic  breeze 
Which  sighs  o'er  the  river  deep. 
And  often  a  strain  of  rapture  and  fear 

Steals  o'er  the  evening  shadows, 
Like  music  from  a  distant  sphere, 

And  tunes  the  solitude  of  Willow  Valley. 

At  night,  when  the  stars  are  all  shining, 
And  the  wings  of  Mystery  soar 

The  valley  o'er, 

Romance,  in  the  shadows  reclining, 
Tells  stories  of  the  future 

And  of  days  that  are  no  more; 
While  the  moonlight  brings 
To  the  wild,  roaming  things 

The  mystery  of  Night. 
Through   the  silvery  light,   in  a  strange 

delight, 

Gather  the  spirits  of  the  summer  night, 
And  fly  in  the  solitude  of  Willow  Valley. 

Ah,  in  this  valley 

By  the  sea, 

In  the  mountain,  where  the  fountain 
Gushes  free, 

No  people  dwell; 
A  curious  spell 
Ever  haunts  the  valley. 

At  day  sad  songs  of  music  swell  in  mourn 
ful  tones 


42         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

Which  hold  a  note  of  rapture, 

Mingled  with  faint  moans  and  groans. 
And  that's  the  reason  why  no  people 

Here  can  dwell ; 

And  even  Israfel 

Could  not  break  the  mystic  spell 
Which  haunts  the  solitude  of  Willow  Valley. 


Estanalee 

In  the  shadows  that  linger 

On  mountain  and  sea, 
Far  above,  a  sweet  Singer 

Sings  faintly  and  free; 
And  the  silence  with  music  that  dismally 

dwells 
In  the  wonder  of  magic,  in  harmony  swells. 

Not  of  morals  and  duty 

Estanalee  sings; 
But  of  visions  of  Beauty 

In  lovelier  things, — 
Of  the  smiles  that  enrapture  the  beautiful 

day, 

And  the  mystery  that  gathers  upon  the  lone 
way. 

In  his  songs  are  the  trances 

Of  spirits  that  dream 
Where  the  silvery  glances 

Bediamonded  gleam, 
As  he  breathes  of  the  amative  splendor  of 

.  Night, 
With  its  jewels  of  vapor  and  mystical  light. 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems        43 

When  tenderly  tinkle 

The  heavenly  bells, 

And  tearfully  twinkle 

Bright  dews  in  the  dells, 
Modest  violets,  awaking  from    slumbers    of 

love, 
Hear  the  music  celestial  faint  drifting  above. 

Where  the  sky-lights  resemble 

A  flashing  of  flame, 
And  the  fairies  assemble 
To  worship  his  name, 
Estanalee  sings  his  most  dreamy-like  song; 
While  dreams  of  the  midnight  all  silently 
throng. 

0  mystical  Spirit 

That  dwellest  alone! 
Could  an  angel  inherit 

Thy  musical  tone  ? 

Ah,  well  may  thy  numbers,  unrivaled  below, 
Through  the  endless  enchantment  in  melody 
flow! 


Eternity  Bids  Thee  to  Never 
Forget 

Eternity  bids  thee  to  never  forget 

The  sorrows  and  raptures  of  Love; 
For  the  spirit  that  conquers  will  never  regret 

The  thorns  and  the  flowers  of  Love. 
And  when  the  dark  shadows  of  Death  fall 
around, 

The  thorns'  bitter  pain  will  not  be, 
And  the  flowers,  that  grew  in  Life's  broken 
ground, 

Will  eternally  blossom  for  thee ! 


44         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

The  mysteries  of  ages  upon  thee  may  fall, 

With  their  gloom,  fascination,  delight ; 
And  the  voices  of  the  dead  may  silently  call 

Through    the    stillness    and    slumber    of 

Night. 
Yet  triumph  in  these  can  the  soul  ever  find ; 

A  music  will  tune  the  lone  heart ; 
And  Memory  will  call  to  the  spirit  and  mind 

Past  visions  which  never  depart. 

Eternity  sends  thee  a  message  of  peace, 

And  the  hope  of  it  thrills  the  deep  soul ; 
But  the  mystery  it  holds  will  never  release 

The  future  of  ages  that  roll: 
Chaotic  and  dismal  as  annals  of  Death 

Seem  the  Fates  in  their  mystical  sphere ; 
But  the  soul,  when  the  body  is  void  of   its 
breath, 

Shall  learn  what  it  longed  to  know  here ! 


Sonnet — To  Memory 

0  Memory,  thou  art  a  brilliant  light 

Reflecting  on  the  Past  with  ling'ring  gleam ! 

In  silence  oft  thy  bright,  resplendent  beam 
Shines  through  the  lonely  darkness  of    the 

night; 

And  o'er  the  passing  years'  swift,  thought 
less  flight 

Thou  throwest  far  thy  tearful  rays,  until 
The  days  of  childhood  rapture  seem  to  fill 

The  sleepy  Present ;  and  we  softly  dream. 
And  though  the  fogs  of  annals  round  thee  rise 

To  make  thy  light  dim  in  the  humid  air, 
Thou  lightest  still  the  distant,  sunny  skies 

Of  mornings  long  ago,  so  fresh  and  fair. 
Forever  shine,  0  sunlight  of  Man's  soul ! 
Him  shalt  thou  bless  as  ages  swiftly  roll ! 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems         45 

Sonnet — To  the  Whippoorwill 

Lone  Whippoorwill,  when  o'er  the  silent  vale 
And  forest  depths  the  dusky  shadows  fall, 
Tis  sweet  to  hear  thy  far,  complaining  call 
Resounding  from  somewhere  within  the  dale. 
While  in  the  west  the  sunset  colors  pale, 
Thy  notes,  sad  drifting  on  the  misty  gloom 
Which  reigns  until  the  flowers  of  Heaven 

bloom, 

Send  out  a  wistful  chanting  over  all ; 
And  he,  who  listens  to  thy  lonesome  song 
Which  nightly  rises  from  the  rocky  glen, 
Must    feel    the    dreams    of    pensive    Fancy 

throng, 

Or  Retrospection's  thrill  of  what  has  been. 
Cease  not  thy  notes,  0  chanter ;  for  in  them 
Oft  steal  the  sounds  of  some  forgotten  hymn ! 


Sonnet — To  Solitude 

Within  thy  sacred  realm,  0  Solitude! 

There  is  a  solemn  silence  pure  and  deep, 

Where  winds  of  meditation  softly  sweep 
Across  thy  mystic  throne  in  thoughtful  mood ; 
For  never  there  the  social  cares  intrude. 
But  cometh  peace  to  soothe  the  weary  mind 
Which  in  thy  haven  sweet  may  ever  find 

A  bliss  akin  to  that  of  gentle  sleep. 
Thy  vast  domain  the  home  of  nature  be ; 

Whence  visions  of  the  truer  worship  spring, 
To  lead  the  spirit  of  the  strong  to  see 

The  wealth  and  glory,  which  around  thee 

cling. 

And  there  the  soul  may  find  a  wisdom  true, 
The  heart  may  learn  what  Knowledge  never 
knew! 


46         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

Sonnet — To  the  Dove 

When  from  the  topmost  limb,  0  gentle  Dove, 
The  sighing  breezes  bear  thy  cooing  low 
Across  the  waters  that  beneath  thee  flow, 
There  steals  a  thrill  of  pure,  contented  love 
Within  the  notes  of  solemn  sounds  above; 
And  to  the  lazy  loneliness  of  Spring 
Thy  song  a  drowsy  harmony  doth  bring, 

Half  mournful,  as  a  strain  of  joy  and  woe. 
All  other  voices  heard  no  more,  thy  faint 

And  distant  echoes  fill  the  solitudes, 
Almost  suggestive  of  a  meek  complaint, 

And  yet  exultant,  like  a  song  that  broods 
In  tender  pathos  o'er  a  lover's  dream 
Beside  the  twilight  murmurs  of  the  stream. 


Beauty 

Within  the  morning  sun's  bright,  golden  rays 

The  smile  is  seen  of  Beauty  rare  and  sweet. 
Her  loveliness  makes  glad  the  summer  days ; 

And  shadows  of  her  form  the  eye  doth  meet 
Upon  the  flowery  meadow,  hill,  and  sky. 
The  wilds  of  Nature  she  doth  beautify ; 
The  winding  stream,  the   valley   wide    and 

deep, 
The  mountain  high,  the  woods  where  violets 

sleep, 

And  seas  whose  surface  billows  madly  sweep. 
And  Beauty,  who  dwells  here  and  high  above, 
With  stalwart  Truth  has  ever  been  in  love ; 

With  him,  she  glorifies  the  solemn  Earth. 

The  angels,  goodness,  mercy,  peace,  and 

mirth, 
Unto  fair  Beauty  bring  their  flowers  of  love ! 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems        47 

Sylvinia 

In  a  beautiful  vale  of  Virginia, 

Where  the  waters  of  Melody  steal, 
Dwells  a  maiden  whose  name  is  Sylvinia, 

Where  the  mountains  the  valley  conceal. 
And  her  lovely  and  mystical  beauty 

Is  the  charm  of  that  valley  of  Love, 
Where  the  angels,  to  keep  a  high  duty, 

Stay  the  clouds  from  assembling  above. 

Ah !  the  smile  of  Sylvinia  is  brighter 

Than  the  glory  of  Summer's  first  morn, 
And  her  fairy-like  form  is  much  lighter 

Than  the  graces  the  angels  adorn; 
And  her  love,  which  forever  is  burning, 

Lights  the  depths  of  her  innocent  eyes, 
As  the  stars  when  the  night  is  returning 

To  her  home  in  the  evening  skies. 

And  I  love  that  most  beautiful  maiden : 

She's  the  queen  of  my  every-day  dream ; 
With  her  glory  sweet  Nature  is  laden, 

'Neath  the  sunlight,  star,  or  moonbeam ! 
But  I  dare  not  to  tell  her  I  love  her ; 

For  I  fear  she  would  vanish  away 
To  her  home  in  the  skies,  and  her  lover 

Would  be  sorry  and  lonely  alway. 

Ah !  the  love  of  Sylvinia  I  cherish ; 

Her  deep  eyes  are  the  light  of  my  soul ; 
My  affection  for  her  could  not  perish 

Could  I  live  all  the  ages  that  roll. 
And  the  clouds  of  this  life  all  dissemble 

When  her  smile  of  pure  rapture  I  see ; 
But  the  shadows  and  gloom  reassemble 

When  I  think  she  was  born  not  for  me ! 


48         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

Oh,  if  winds  to  a  distance  could  carry 

A  fond  message  of  love  that  is  true, 
I  would  send  to  that  wonderful  fairy : — 

Lovely  maiden,  I'm  longing  for  you ! 
Or  if  yearning  and  hoping  could  bring  her 

On  a  magical  plane  of  the  sky, 
Then  no  longer  alone  would  she  linger, 

But  to  me  from  that  valley  would  fly. 

0  my  beautiful,  charming  Sylvinia ! 

In  a  love  that  is  sacred  and  deep, 
Now  for  thee,  fairest  maid  of  Virginia, 

Tears  of  sorrow  and  sadness  I  weep. 
And  no  magic  my  love  can  dissever; 

For  my  heart  you  have  stolen  from  me. 
But  remember,  sweet  maiden,  if  ever 

You  return  it,  you  too  will  mine  be! 


A  Puzzle 

My  distant  friend,  within  this  stanza  hidden, 

Sacred  lies  thy  name  in  letters  bold. 
Survey  the  lines ;  for,  by  the  muses  bidden, 

They  artlessly  that  precious  name  enfold. 
Though  no  word  of  discontent  expressing, 

Long  you  strove  in  vain  the  name  to  find; 
But,  alas !  thy  grave  and  earnest  guessing 

Never  unseals  a  mystery  of  this  kind. 
And  to  thee,  who  motherly  guided  me 
Patiently  through  my  youthful  years, 
I  am  sending  this  note  with  grateful  tears. 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems        49 


Upon  Thy  Bank,  0  Gentle  Stream 

Upon  thy  bank,  0  gentle  stream, 

Beneath  the  silent  willow, 
I  used  to  lie  and  softly  dream 

On  Fancy's  peaceful  pillow; 
In  thought  I  lay,  and  dreamed  some  day 
Thy  waves  would  bear  me  far  away. 

Ah,  years  and  moments  far  have  fled, 

Dear  friends  are  gone  forever ; 
Fond  Memory  steals  with  silent  tread 

To  fleeting  years,  whenever 
Faint  breezes  o'er  thy  slumb'ring  shore 
In  sad  tones  whisper,  "Nevermore!" 

Still  oft  I  steal,  as  o'er  the  hill 

The  light  of  Day  is  fleeing, 
To  feel  the  night's  mysterious  thrill 

That  sweeps  through  all  my  being; 
And  in  the  light  of  mystic  Night 
Thy  waves  give  back  the  trembling  light. 

Again  beside  thy  gentle  flow 

O  let  me  ever  linger, 
As  in  the  days  of  long  ago 

When  Fancy's  charming  finger 
Would  point  away,  and  she  would  say, 
"These  waves  shall  bear  thee  far  away!" 


60         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

A  Song  That  Father  Used  to  Sing 

A  song  that  father  used  to  sing — 

Ah,  sing  it  soft  and  low, 
While  to  my  heart  sweet  memories  bring 
The  nights  of  long  ago, 

The  nights  when  by  the  summer  vine 
I  watched  the  stars  above  us  shine, 
And  listened  to  that  song  which  rose 
Upon  the  evening's  still  repose. 

A  song  that  father  used  to  sing — 

Oh,  breathe  it  lower  still ; 
For  to  this  heart  that  tune  will  bring 
Those  far-off  nights,  until 

Again  I  watch  the  stars'  pale  gleam, 
And  hear,  as  though  I'm  in  a  dream, 
Him  singing  low  that  quaint  old  song 
Which  I  have  heard  him  sing  so  long. 

A  song  that  father  used  to  sing — 

Just  sing  it  once  for  me, 
As  from  the  past  the  shadows  bring 
The  starry  nights,  when  he 

Would  sing  it,  looking  far  away 
As  though  he  longed  for  some  past  day ; 
While  I  would  fly  on  Fancy's  wings 
To  coming  days  and  future  things. 

A  song  that  father  used  to  sing ! 
Ah,  through  the  misty  years 
A  vision  will  that  song  e'er  bring, 
With  Memory's  sighs  and  tears. 
Then  sing  it  soft  and  low  again— 
And  once  again  beneath  that  strain, 
There  at  my  father's  side  I  dream 
And  watch  the  stars  above  us  gleam ! 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems         61 

Ye  Hills  and  Cliffs 

Ye  hills  and  cliffs,  where  nineteen  years  ago 
I  first  looked  on  this  valley  here  below, 
Again  I  come,  a  wanderer,  to  my  home, 
Around  thy  steeps  and  rugged  crags  to  roam. 
As  in  those  happy  childhood  days  gone  bye, 
Once  more  upon  thy  rocky  summits  I 
In  silence  stand  and  view  the  summer  scene: 
The  noble  hills,  the  stream,  the  vales  serene, 
The  endless  woods  that    stretch    for   miles 

away, 
And  all  the  charms  that  come  with  early  Day. 

0  silent  hills !  receive  a  youth  who  strayed 
Far  from  these  scenes,  where  often  he  has 

played, 

\V  hose  soul  is  hungry  for  thy  blissful  rest, 
Whose  heart  is  longing  for  thy  silence  blest. 
Ye  hills  sublime!  I  hear  a  welcome  sweet 
Sung  by  the  birds ;  the  breezes  low  repeat 
That  welcome  which  is  free  and  makes  me 

free; 

The  cow-bells  tinkle  music  dear  to  me, 
The  sheeps'  lone  bleat  awakens    memories 

old;— 
Oh,  what  a  joy  these  sounds  of  Nature  hold! 

Yes,  childhood  scenes,  fond  memories  awake ! 
The  charm  of  crowded,  brilliant  streets  for 
sake 

And  die  within  these  shades  of  solitude, 
Where  never  sin  and  worldly  pride  intrude. 
A  music,  sweeter  than  in  music-hall 
Up  to  the  marble  portals  white  e'er  fall, 
In  melody  now  somewhere  rises  low 
To  list'ning  ears  which  all  the  pauses  know; 
A  soul  unto  the  songs  of  Nature  flies 
And  sings  in  rapture  'neath  the  sunny  skies. 


52         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

Ye  hills  and  cliffs!  when  tired  of  wandering 

o'er 

The  weary  world,  from  ocean  shore  to  shore, 
On  nightly  streets,  in  dazzling  halls  where 

wealth 

In  splendor  reign  instead  of  love  and  health, 
Toward  thy  wild  recesses  shall  I  turn, 
The  grace  of  God  and  Nature  sweet  to  learn ; 
To  dream  again  the  dreams  of  long  ago ; 
To  watch  the  stars  of  night  above  me  glow ; 
To  live  again  the  life  of  Youth  sublime, 
And  o'er  thy  summits    high   and    crags    to 

climb ! 


When  Parting  From  A  Friend 

When  parting  from  a  friend  we've  known 
For  long  and  many  bygone  years, 

How  dear  to  us  that  friend  has  grown : 
Ah,  then  will  fall  the  saddest  tears! 

Oh,  could  we  and  that  faithful  friend 
A  few  more  days  together  stay, 

And  feel  the  hearts'  warm  glows  that  send 
A  light  upon  Life's  cloudy  way ! 

Ah,  in  those  solemn  moments  crowd 
Sweet  memories  of  the  happy  past, 

When  o'er  our  sunny  lives  no  cloud 
Of  grief  or  pain  its  shadow  cast ; 

And  in  the  silence  then  we  stand 

And  dream  of  days  that  are  no  more — 

The  time  has  come :  we  grasp  his  hand, 
To  journey  on  the  path  before. 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems        53 

And  often  in  our  hearts  we  feel 
A  longing  for  that  friend  so  true, 

And  often  will  fond  Memory  steal 
To  us  a  smile  so  long  we  knew ! 

Tis  sad ;  but  in  our  souls  that  love, 
Which  first  began  in  other  years, 

Will  shine,  until  in  Heaven  above 

We  meet  that  friend  where  fall  no  tears ! 


Requiescat 

Tread  softly ; — she  is  sleeping 

Within  this  lonely  grave! 
Fair  lilies,  o'er  her  weeping, 

Above  her  meekly  wave ; 
While  breezes  sigh  up  in  the  sky 

For  her,  whom  Beauty  gave. 

Not  long  ago  she  wandered 

Along  this  lovely  stream, 
And  by  its  murmurs  pondered 

Beneath  the  golden  beam; 
But  now  that  one,  whom  Death  has  won, 

Lies  in  eternal  dream. 

In  sweet  and  mystic  slumber, 

Beneath  this  sacred  sod, 
She  now  is  of  that  number 

Whose  spirits  are  with  God ; 
And  sorrowing  seem  the  wood  and  stream, 

Where  she  in  beauty  trod. 


54         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

Upon  this  solemn  mountain 

In  silence  sanctified, 
The  wavelets  of  a  fountain 

Weep  for  the  maid  who  died, — 
Who,  with  fond  eyes  like  magic  skies, 

Was  once  a  lover's  pride. 

Tread  gently; — she  is  sleeping 

Within  this  lonely  mound ! 
Fair  lilies,  near  her  weeping, 

Keep  green  the  hallowed  ground ; 
And  faintly  drear,  afar  and  near, 

The  tolling  bells  resound. 


Psalm  the  Eighth:  A  Paraphrase 

0  Lord,  our  Lord,  how  gracious  is  thy  name 
In  all  the  earth !    And  thou  hast  set  thy  flame 
Within  the  heavens;  in  babes  and  sucklings 

hast 

Thou  strength  ordained,  the  foe  away  to  cast. 
When  I  unto  thy  heavens  lift  mine  eyes 
And  view  the  moon,  the  stars,  their  holy 

ray, 
And  all  thou  hast  created  in  the  skies, 

Then,  deep  within,  my  trembling  soul  doth 

say: — 

Oh,  what  is  man,  whom  thou  forgettest  not, 
And   whom   thou    givest   thy   most    sacred 

thought? 

For  him  a  little  lower  thou  hast  made 
Than  angels,  and  upon  him  thou  hast  laid 
Glory  and  honor.    Thou  didst  him  create 

To  have  dominion  o'er  the  work  thy  hands 
Did  form;  sheep,  oxen,  and  all  beasts  that 

mate 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems         65 

In  fields,  are  under  him  in  all  the  lands ; 
Also  the  fowl  of  air,  and  fish  of  sea, 
And  all  that  in  the  depths  of  ocean  be. 
0  Lord,  our  Lord,  in  whom  we  have  our  birth, 
Thy  name  is  excellent  throughout  the  earth ! 


Love  and  Fame 

The  day  of  the  dreary  December 
Had  fled  o'er  the  snow-covered  hill, 
And  Night,  with  her  silence  and  chill, 

Brought  the  stars,  each  a  distant,  pale  ember, 
Which  glowed  in  the  heavens  with  chill. 

Not  a  sound  broke  the  silence,  save  only 
The  owl's  far,  dull,  lonesome  "whoo-whoo"; 

And  oft  from  his  dwelling  so  lonely 
He  complained  to  the  stars  of  the  Blue. 

On  that  night,  on  the  top  of  a  Mountain 

That  rose  in  the  desolate  plain, 

In  pride  of  its  ancient  domain, 
Stood  a  man  by  the  side  of  a  fountain, 

Which  flowed  in  a  tuneful  refrain. 
And  with  him  was  no  friend  or  companion : 

Alone  and  all  silently  there, 
Near  the  edge  of  a  gloomy,  deep  canyon, 

He  breathed  the  pure  mountainous  air. 

Far  below  lay  the  long  and  wide  level 
Of  the  plain  in  the  silence  of  night, 
Where  the  spirit  Romance,  in  delight, 

O'er  the  scene  fascinating  did  revel, 
In  the  beautiful,  mystical  light. 

And  the  moon,  in  her  glory  and  gleaming, 
Looked  on  the  lone  Mountain  below, 

And  sent  her  pale,  golden  light  streaming 
On  the  plain  of  bediamoned  snow. 


66         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

Long  the  man  on  the  Mountain  stood  thinking 
How  the  beauty  and  radiance  did  seem 
Like  the  smile  of  the  queen  of  his  Dream ; 

His  soul  deep  within  him  was  drinking 
Of  the  glory  which  on  him  did  stream. 

Yet  he  wondered  why  came  not  his  Angel, 
The  maid  who  had  promised  to  be 

His  bride  on  Mount  Fame ;  but  his  Angel 
Was  not  there,  as  she'd  promised  to  be. 

Then  long — oh,  how  long! — for  the  Maiden 
He  watched  o'er  the  plain  far  below, — 
That  plain  which  was  covered  with  snow ; 

And  his  heart  grew,  then,  heavy  and  laden 
With  a  feeling  of  sorrow  and  woe. 

But  he  saw  not  her  form  of  fair  beauty, 
Nor  her  face  like  the  splendor  above: — 

She  must  come — she  would  come — 'twas  her 

duty, 
For  she'd  promised  in  the  vows  of  her  love ! 

Hark !  he  hears  a  low  voice  that  is  singing 

A  song  like  a  funeral  hymn, — 

It  sounds  like  a  funeral  hymn ; 
And  softly  and  solemnly  ringing, 

It  gently  is  speaking  to  him : — 
"Thy  fair  One  is  dead,  O  fond  lover! 

Her  spirit  has  flown  far  away — 
She  has  gone  to  the  angels  that  love  her, 

In  the  light  of  the  Heavenly  Day. 

"On  this  lone  and  this  silent,  cold  Mountain, 

On  this  summit  the  humans  call  Fame, 
By  this  canyon  and  mystical  fountain, 

The  queen  will  ne'er  change  her  fair  name  1 
The  light  of  her  love  will,  oh,  never 

Shine  upon  this  lone  summit  of  fame ; 
For  thy  Angel  has  gone  where,  forever, 

Her  love  is  much  greater  than  fame !" 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems        67 

Then  the  night  of  the  dreary  December, 
With  its  silence  and  sorrow  and  chill, 

Took  the  stars,  each  a  distant,  cold  ember, 
And  fled  o'er  the  snow-covered  hill. 

Not  a  sound  broke  the  silence,  save  only 
The  owl's  far,  dull,  lonesome  "whoo-whoo" ; 

And  oft,  in  his  dwelling  so  lonely, 

He  complained  to  the  lights  of  the  Blue, — 
To  the  winds  from  the  heavens  of  blue. 

And  a  man,  in  the  light  that  was  gleaming 

From  the  sun  in  the  skies  high  above, 
Came  down  from  the  Mountain,  and,  dream 
ing, 

Said  slowly,  "All  perish,  but  Love — 
What  is  fame    and    all    wealth,  without 
love?" 


The  Trail  of  the  Yukon 

There's  a  stream  among  the  mountains 

Of  a  land  that's  bleak  and  cold, 
Where  the  ice-winds  freeze  the  fountains, 

And  the  wolf  is  ever  bold. 
And  if  ever  you  have  wandered 

On  the  Trail  along  that  stream, 
Why  you  left  it,  you  have  wondered, 

And  you  see  it  in  your  dream. 

Oh,  the  Trail  is  white  and  broken 
By  the  canyons  dark  and  deep, 

And  the  only  sounds  there  spoken 
Make  the  chills  across  you  creep : 

In  the  distance  bears  a-growling 
O'er  a  wretch  who  went  too  far, 


58         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

Hungry  wolves  forever  howling 

To  the  silent  midnight  star. 
Then  you  listen,  fascinated 

By  the  sounds  and  scenes  around, 
Till  you  love  the  land  you  hated 

When  those  mountains  you  first  found. 

There  is  gold  deep  in  the  hollow, 

On  the  mountain  side  there's  fur; 
But  the  Trail  I'd  rather  follow 

With  a  rifle  and  a  cur. 
In  its  silence  there's  a  mystery, 

Strong  it  holds  you  in  its  spell ; 
And  you  feel  its  dreary  history, 

Which  to  others  you  can't  tell. 
And  'tis  lonesome  when  you  listen 

In  your  cabin,  all  alone, 
To  the  silence,  see  peaks  glisten 

Like  a  distant,  desert  bone ; 
Then  you  buckle  on  your  legging, 

Take  the  rifle  from  the  nail, 
Feed  the  dog  to  stop  his  begging — 

And  you  hit  the  frozen  Trail. 
Then  you  strike  the  Trail  that  stronger 

Makes  the  brave  heart  on  its  road, 
Where  the  weak  can  stay  no  longer 

Than  a  fishing-worm  or  toad. 

Here  you  follow  by  the  canyons, 

Through  the  valley,  o'er  the  peak, 
Never  wishing  for  companions 

As  you  steal  along  a  creek ; 
And  you  feel  the  mountains'  glory, 

Seems  they  give  you  of  their  strength, 
As  they  stand  there  old  and  hoary, 

Tall  and  matchless  in  their  length ! 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems        59 

Ah,  the  Trail  is  calling,  calling ! 

Still  it  calls  me  to  its  track — 
When  the  leaves  begin  their  falling, 

Guess  I'll  pack  up  and  go  back 
To  that  Land  that's  full  of  danger, 

Where  I  find  a  strange  delight; 
Where  I  meet  the  howling  ranger 

In  the  darkness  of  the  night. 
There  the  Yukon's  silvery  water 

Glistens  'neath  the  summer  sun, 
And  the  glaciers  seem  to  totter 

At  the  roaring  of  a  gun. 
But  I  love  that  land  of  wonder, 

And  I'm  going  right  away 
To  that  Trail  of  ice  up  yonder, 

And  up  there  I'll  always  stay ! 

Hark!  the  Yukon  Trail  is  calling 

Me  back  to  its  frozen  Wild, 
Where  the  snowflakes,  thickly  falling, 

On  the  mountain  tops  are  piled. 
To  that  Trail  so  long  forsaken, 

To  that  land  of  ice  and  snow, 
Where  the  mountain  peaks  are  shaken 

By  the  hurricanes  that  blow, 
I  am  going.    On  the  mountain 

Once  again  the  heights  I'll  climb, 
Track  the  bear  beside  the  fountain, 

In  that  snowy,  frigid  clime. 
There  the  valleys  now  are  dreaming, 

Far  the  wolves  send  up  their  wail — 
And  the  lights  above  are  gleaming 

On  the  frozen  Yukon  Trail. 


60         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

The  Lake  at  Night 

I  stood  at  night  by  Lake  Lavada,  where 
The  waves  in  music  play  upon  the  depths, 
And  watched  the  glowing  moon  in  splendor  rise 
Above  the  summer  hills.    The  golden  light 
Across  the  lovely  lake  in  radiance  fell; 
The  whippoorwill's  high  chanting  rose  upon 
The  balmy  air  in  vesper  notes ;  the  breeze 
Was  whispering  low  among  the  silent  trees 
A  mystic  hymn.    In  silence  deep  I  stood 
And  thought  upon  those  holy,  nameless  things 
That  fill  Man's  heart  with  wonder,  love  and 

awe, — 

That  come  upon  the  soul  with  fear  and  hope, 
When  Meditation  leads  into  the  paths 
Of  wisdom.  Long,  in  thoughtful  mood,  beneath 
The  lonely  trees,  as  Night's  majestic  fire 
Stole  o'er  the  shadows  of  still  solitude, 
I  stood,  my  mind  engaged  in  reasoning  on 
The  fate  of  Time,  the  Past,  and  of  the  Soul. 
And  while  I  pondered  thus,  a  Voice  arose 
Afar  in  music,  like  the  floating  of 
The  evening  winds  into  a  harp  of  fine, 
Celestial,  golden  strings,  across  the  blue 
Ethereal  heavens  hung.    In  melody 
That  seemed  to  drift  from  angel  bands  above, 
The  Voice,  at  first  in  distant  tones,  arose 
From  far  away ;  then  nearer  came,  until 
It  woke  the  slumbering  earth,  and  reached 
The  twinkling  sky,  then  filled  the  misty  space 
With  liquid  notes  of  harmony.    And  then 
The  Voice,  directly  o'er  me  now,  said  to 
My  trembling  soul: — 

"Immortal  Soul,  that's  born 
To  never  die!  what  seekest  thou  upon 
This  glorious  night?    The  happiness  serene 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems         61 

That  fills  the  sky  with  holy  light  and  thrills 
The  heart  of  Nature?    That  love  so  strong, 
By  which  the  beings,  Truth  and  Beauty,  shall 
Forever  live?    Or  wouldst  thou  fathom  deep 
The  infinite  and  mystic  depths  of  Mystery, 
And  learn  the  secret  which  will  never  stir 
The  surface  of  the  stream  of  Time;  why  all 
Things  are ;  the  great  divine  Purpose  of  those 
Eternal  Laws;  the  hope  of  Life,  and  fear 
Of  that  dark  time,  called  Death ;  the  Destiny 
That  'waits  thee  in  the  still  Beyond  ? 

"0  hark, 

Thou  restless  soul!    In  ages  far  and  gone, 
Have    sages    reached   the    dazzling   hall   of 

Fame — 
The  happy  bards  have  sung  their  tuneful 

songs 

Which  echoed  in  the  heart  of  listening  Man — 
Monarchs  have  reared  despotic  thrones  and 

held 
The  sword  of  power  o'er  trembling  slaves — 

the  fools 
Have  striven  through  their  weary  lives  to 

make 

Their  riches  greater  still.    And,  yet,  the  hall, 
Which  Knowledge  lighted  as  the  solemn  sage 
Profoundly  entered  at  the  door  Renown, 
Is  silent,  dark,  and  cold — the  sleeping  bard's 
Impassioned  strain  has  died  upon  the  faint 
And  fleeting  breezes  of  the  past — the  king 
Has  heard  the  heeded  call  to  join  the  throng 
That  lie  beneath  the  sad  inglorious  tomb — 
The  wealth  the  miser  loved  and  guarded  long 
Is  his  no  more. 

"0  Soul,  to  higher  things 
Yet  lift  thine  eyes ;  behold  the  wondrous  work 


62         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

Of  God,  and  see  His  glory  and  His  love, 

Which  give  to  Nature  all  her  serenity. 

And  thou  shalt  hear  her  low,  harmonious 

songs 

And  see  her  beauty  sweet  and  grace  divine : — 
The  towering  mountains  rise  to  lofty  heights 
In  rugged  sublimation,  to  watch  the  sun 
With  glory  light  the  dewy  path  of  Morn; 
To  see  despairing  Day  retreat  into 
The  west,  as  jealous  Night  in  triumph  sets 
Her  starry  banner  o'er  the  field  she  takes. 
The  sloping  plain  and  thirsty  desert  hold 
Upon  their  wide  and  solitary  domain 
A  mystic  atmosphere  of  solemn  worship. 
Through  valleys  and  between  high  mountains 

far, 

With  majesty,  the  rolling  rivers  sweep 
By  rocky  shores  that  hear  the  music  of 
The  dashing  waves.    Down  gentle  hills,  into 
Green  vales  below,  clear  streamlets  murmur 

songs 

In  low,  complaining  tones ;  then  steal  across 
Broad  meadows,  gay  with  flowers,  where  they 

glide 

Away  beneath  the  sunny  skies.    Remote, 
W7here  solitude  commands  the  list'ning  air, 
Transparent  lies  the  silent  lake;  above, 
The  starry  lights  look  down  at  night  to  see 
Their  beauty  in  the  waveless  mirror  far 
Below ;  the  moon  arises  to  behold 
Her  silvery  smile  within  the  crystal  depths; 
And  lonely  trees,  that  guard  the  sleeping 

shore, 
With    reverence    greet    the    gentle,  passing 

breeze. 

In  sacred  atmosphere,  far  stands  the  deep 
And  solemn  forest,  that  ancient  temple  where 
The  joyful  birds  forever  sing  of  His 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems         63 

Great  wisdom.    Mystic  breezes  lightly  steal 
Beneath  the  arches  green  and  up  the  long 
And  winding  aisles,  to  carry  upward  to 
The  King  of  all  the  consecrated  hymns 
Of  love   and  peace  and  worship  true.     In 

strength 

Untamed,  in  restless  pride,  forever  rolls 
The  blue,  unfathomed  Ocean  in  its  deep, 
Musical  roar,  beneath  the  smile  of  Morn, 
The  evening  sun,  and  stars  of  silent  Night." 

The  Voice  then  ceased ;  the  music  drifted  slow 
Away ;  and  Silence  seemed  to  faintly  wrap 
The  Universe  in  misty  shrouds  of  love 
And  peace.    And  then  once  more  the  waves' 

low  dash 

Came  softly  from  the  lake ;  the  birds  of  night 
Sent  up  their  carols  sweet ;  and  winds  again, 
In  gentle  sighs,  stole  o'er  the  lonely  lake. 
The    moonlight    gave    enchantment    to   the 

night, 
And  Truth  and  Love  and  Beauty,  above  the 

lake, 
Conversed  with  Nature  and  my  wondering 

soul. 


The  Desert's  Call 

The  hot,  relentless  sun  has  tread 
Its  journey  o'er  the  desert  dread; 
The  varied  colors,  changing  fast, 
Above  the  shadows  faintly  cast 
Their  last  reflections  in  the  sky, 
And  in  approaching  darkness  die; 
While  Night,  on  dark  and  silent  wings, 
Her  gloom  above  creation  flings. 


64         A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems 

Now  all  is  silence ;  and  it  seems 

That  silence  holds  a  thousand  dreams, 

Which,  stealing  from  some  mystic  sphere, 

Invade  the  magic  of  the  year. 

Across  the  desert  land  away, 

The  stars'  enchanting  beams  betray 

A  dreamy  loveliness  that  grows 

Defiant  in  the  hidden  woes, 

Which  haunt  the  very  bird  that  flies 

Into  the  danger  of  those  skies; 

Because  that  thirsty,  barren  land 

Defies  achievement  of  Man's  hand, 

And  still  the  ancient  horrors  reign 

O'er  all  that  barrier-like  domain. 

But  yet  the  stillness  and  the  gloom, 
Suggestive  of  relentless  doom, 
Retain  a  worship  grim  and  stern, 
By  which  humanity  might  learn 
A  reverence  for  the  Great  Alone, 
And  bow  before  its  mighty  throne. 

And  hark !  from  somewhere  to  the  soul 
The  sounds  of  fleeting  ages  roll! 
They  echo  through  the  desert-night, 
Component  of  a  strange  delight : — 
It  is  the  desert's  mystic  call 
Transcending  Time's  eternal  wall. 
It  is  the  whispering  of  the  Wild 
To  share  its  loneness  undefiled ; 
To  brave  its  desolation  vast, 
The  summer  heat,  and  stormy  blast ; 
To  challenge  danger,  conquer  death, 
Upon  the  range  of  torrid  breath. 
A  tragic  and  eternal  law 
Holds  both  the  heart  and  soul  in  awe ; 
The  while  the  dismal  voices  fall, 
The  desert's  own  unanswered  call! 


A  Dream  of  Dreams  and  Other  Poems        65 

L/Envoi 

The  verses  this  volume  contains, 

These  rhymes  of  a  wandering  youth, 
Are  only  the  gathered  remains 

Of  visions  of  Beauty  and  Truth; 
Imperfect  in  measure  a,nd  thought 

Though  many  or  all  of  them  be, 
Revealing  a  freedom  untaught, 

They  whisper  of  things  of  the  free. 

Poetic  and  mystical  dreams 

Each  human  beholds  luhen  the  hand 
Of  Mystery  points  to  the  streams 

That  flow  to  a  dreamy -far  Land; 
But  feelings  of  loftier  love, 

Emotions  of  purpose  divine, 
Are  treasures  each  values  above 

All  else  on  this  side  of  Death's  line. 

For  Life  is  a  Valley  of  Tears, 

Eternity's  summits  around; 
Yet  Faith  thru  the  mist  of  the  years 

A  glory  immortal  hath  found. 
And  Hope  in  her  patience  hath  seen 

Another  Yosemite's  spell, 
A  splendor  of  beauty  serene 

Surrounding  wherever  Men  dwell 

*         *         *         *  '       * 
And  lo!  on  the  pages  of  Time 

The  old  Christianity  shall  be 
A  version  of  meaning  sublime, 

A  calling  to  you  and  to  me; 
And,  reading  those  mandates  of  Life, 

This  mission  most  noble  we  find : 
Be  brave,  though  unknown  in  the  strife, 

By  helping  and  serving  Mankind! 


YC   14428 


^r7i 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


